The Element of Surprise
by Imagination-Parade
Summary: She knows he's doing it just to annoy her - purposely concealing what his job on the island is time and time again because he knows she can't figure it out on her own. When she asks again on the afternoon before their long-awaited first date, he tells her he's the lead trainer on InGen's velociraptor project, and Claire hopes he doesn't see her face go white.


_Two things I noticed about Jurassic World (the first movie):_

 _1\. Masrani does not know or think that Claire knows Owen. I know his description/explanation of Owen to Claire was probably mostly done for the audience's benefit, but that means, in the context of the story, Claire's boss doesn't think Claire has any reason to know who he is, which implies Claire & Owen did NOT have much of a professional relationship, if one at all, on the island._

 _2\. A deleted scene kind of leaves the impression that Claire also may not have been out to the raptor paddock before the incident. "So this is who you've been spending all your time with?" doesn't seem like something someone who regularly visited the paddock and had seen Owen and the raptors in action would say (even if she is just kinda flirting with that statement.)_

 _So Claire seems to have a basic knowledge of what's going on with InGen's raptor project and what it is that Owen does, but that's about it, which I always thought was a little weird for Claire Control-Freak Dearing…_

 _Until I read The Evolution of Claire._

 _That book provides a pretty solid reason for why Claire would've had nothing to do with the raptor project on her island. That book also made me consider that ill-fated first date between Claire and Owen in a bit of a different light. I said I was *never* going to touch pre-movies Claire & Owen, but I put all of this together, and thus, this story was born._

 _Needless to say, this contains spoilers for The Evolution of Claire, so if you're planning on reading & haven't yet, consider this your warning. If you haven't read it & aren't planning to (or just don't care about spoilers) but still find yourself interested in this story, feel free to continue – I'm not going so deep with the book references that you won't be able to follow what's happening here._

* * *

" _Claire Dearing_!" a voice called from across the restaurant, pulling her attention from the data spread out across the table she'd claimed as her own.

Claire sat alone in the corner of the covered outdoor balcony, a merciful breeze tousling her loose hair and tickling her neck. Having sacrificed air conditioning for a chance at productivity, she sat at the shaded table in a tank top and pencil skirt, her jacket folded across the top of the chair next to her. She instinctively reached for it at the call of her name, but when she looked up from her laptop, she found only the man she'd met the week before heading her way. They'd left one another on a first-name basis; the proud smirk on his face told Claire that he was clearly pleased with himself for discovering the rest of her identity since he'd last seen her.

Her eyes followed him as he reached her table and sat down across from her without invitation, paying no mind to the paperwork she had spread out around her laptop. Had it been anyone else, his actions – the loud calling of her name, the putting his elbows all over her spreadsheets, the interruption itself – would've annoyed her, but his voice alone caused a small-but-undeniable, electrifying twist in her stomach, so she let it all slide.

"Senior Operations Manager of Jurassic World," he boastfully finished as he leaned towards her, expecting her to be impressed with his discovery.

Claire dropped the bound financial report in her hand onto the table and placed the pen she'd removed from between her teeth on top of it, never once letting her eyes leave his. "I see you've done some research," she replied, pulling her laptop closed slightly as she unconsciously leaned towards him, too.

"If you could call it that," Owen said. Claire's eyes narrowed in his direction, her head tilting slightly to the side, and he relented. "Coworker told me who you are."

"You…asked your colleagues about me?" Claire asked, the thrill in her stomach dissolving into nerves of a different sort.

Owen's lips remained sealed. In reality, he hadn't asked a thing, but it had taken all of five seconds for Barry to wonder who the girl was when Owen returned to the paddock with a goofy grin on his face.

The air carried by the wind on the balcony smelled like the nearby lagoon with a slight hint of vanilla, the sweet aroma of her lotion assaulting her own senses as Owen's curious eyes traveled over her face; he was looking at her as if he were captivated not by her looks, but by a simple desire to know everything about her, and the nerves in her stomach pulsed again.

Changing the subject, Owen asked, "How does someone go from college intern to running a whole place like this so quickly?"

She laughed, a bit taken aback by how much he'd seemingly learned since their last meeting. "Okay, I would _definitely_ call that research," she said.

When she saw that Owen was still waiting for an answer, Claire rolled her eyes and glanced off the side of the balcony. Owen's was a question she'd been getting for years; if she never heard it again, it'd be too soon.

Claire sighed as she turned back to him and muttered, "Probably not in the way you've heard."

"I heard nothing," he casually fibbed. "Just read an interesting profile on a website." Claire's eyes shifted up to meet his again, and he grinned. "Maybe I did a _little_ research," he admitted.

Claire was quiet for a moment as she mentally sized Owen up. She knew what they said about her – about her and Masrani – around the island. If he'd talked to colleagues about her, she was sure it was too late to keep him from hearing that particular rumor, but he didn't ask with the usual condescension that often accompanied inquiries into her qualifications. Still, it was a question she was tired of answering.

Deciding to see how a vague notion of the truth played out, she shrugged and said, "The right mix of ambition, obsession, and childhood trauma, I guess." It took a moment, but soon, Owen started laughing, and Claire smiled. She wasn't very used to people finding her funny, either.

"What're you doing out here?" he asked. "Don't you have some fancy office?"

"Mr. Masrani's here, and he said he didn't need me again until four, so…well, he told me to go relax, but I don't get much done when he's around," Claire explained.

"So you left to make it look like you were doing what he told you to do?" Owen asked.

"More or less," Claire admitted.

Owen chuckled again. "How's that working out?"

"Pretty well, until…" Claire replied, stopping suddenly. The edges of her lips twitched into a small grin before she met his eyes, wordlessly telling him the distraction he was causing wasn't entirely unwelcome.

Another proud smirk covered his face for a moment before he said, "Well, while you're out here, can I buy you a drink?"

"I'm working," she said, drawing the line there.

"Right," he said with a nod. Owen grabbed her wrist and pulled it closer to him to look at her watch, despite the piece resting on his own arm. He shrugged and stood from the table, letting his fingers slide from her inner wrist as he let her hand go. "That's okay," he said. "A drink would make me late for a meeting with your boss."

"What?" Claire asked.

"Don't worry; I won't tell him you're out here looking at spreadsheets," he promised.

"Owen!" she called. He turned around in the doorway between the restaurant and its quiet balcony. "What is it that you do here?"

He smiled in a maddeningly handsome way that told Claire she wasn't going to be getting an answer to that question. "Gotta give you a reason to talk to me again, now, don't I?" he teased in response.

"At least tell me your last name," Claire sighed. "It's only fair."

"Owen Grady," he said. "See you around."

Claire returned his smile and watched him go, swiftly turning away when he threw a glance over his shoulder to catch one last look at her. As soon as she confirmed he'd left the restaurant, she opened her laptop and clicked on the Jurassic World database software, navigating to the employee lookup page.

She'd asked what he did the first time they met, of course. She didn't know all the island employees by name or face, but the knife fastened to the back of his waistband had been a dead giveaway – a guest would _never_ get through the security screenings positioned at every possible park entrance with something like that. He'd refused to tell her then, too. She typed _Grady, Owen_ into her database and smugly pressed enter.

To her dismay, the results proved to be a nonstarter. Her database provided her with details on employment, housing, and personal information for everyone stationed on the island, but it had its limitations. The only thing printed under his name on the employment tab read _InGen Security [2012]._

Claire sighed. Owen reported to the head of the private security firm, not someone who ultimately reported to her, meaning any further details would continue to elude her.

* * *

Dirt flew behind her tires and fire burned in her green eyes as she drove herself out to the corner of the island she had just discovered he'd claimed as his own. It was a remote piece of land, far from any attraction or animal habitat; she'd had no idea someone lived on this part of the island at all, let alone had built an entire cabin with his bare hands. She parked closer than she should've to said cabin and quickly climbed out of the car, high heels sinking into the softer ground as she marched over to where he sat working on a motorcycle.

"I take it this isn't a booty call," he teased, the look on her face clearly meaning business.

"Who gave you permission to build a house out here?" she asked, ignoring his crude comment as she pointed towards the structure of the home he'd built.

"It's open land," Owen said.

"The Masrani Corporation owns the island, making it all private property. _You_ are not an employee of The Masrani Corporation…" Claire started.

"You've looked me up," he said with a nod, his suspicions about how he'd ended up on her shit list for this after all his time on that part of the island confirmed.

"Of course," Claire said.

"And what'd that tell you?" Owen asked.

"That you're not an employee of The Masrani Corporation," she huffed.

He chuckled. "And the fact that that's all you know about me is driving you crazy."

"I'm the _manager_ , for god's sake," she said with exasperation. "I don't know how you've slipped under my radar for the past few years, or why you think you can continue to remain this big mystery, but…you are changing the subject!"

"This land ain't anywhere near your park," he said. "You looking to develop this far out?"

"No, but…" Claire started.

"But what?" Owen asked.

"But it's not safe for you to be out here," Claire said firmly. "There is a section of the island zoned for employee housing. InGen employees are more than welcome to…"

"I'm good, thanks," he said.

"Owen!" she cried in frustration.

"What's gonna get me out here?" he asked.

"We do have free-roaming dinosaurs, you know," Claire said. "They're not all locked up in paddocks. There are security measures in place to keep them away from the hub of the park and the guest accommodations if they were to ever roam too far in that direction, but out here, I can't guarantee your safety with as much certainty."

"They're herbivores," he said. "And from what I understand, they're pretty well trained."

"You don't want to be on the other end of a playful brachiosaurus," she said. Under her breath, she added, " _Believe me_."

"Then you probably shouldn't let guests ride those canoes down the river," he argued.

"Yes, I agree," she revealed with frustration. "I got overruled!"

He held back a snort of laughter. Something told him Claire Dearing not getting her way wasn't a thing that happened often. "I appreciate your concern, Claire, but I'm not exactly fearing for my life out here."

"You're not afraid of the dinosaurs?" she challenged.

He shrugged a nonchalant shrug, one she was sure was purposely designed not to truthfully answer her but to mildly infuriate her, and asked, "Are you?"

She inhaled sharply and exhaled before replying with, "An appropriate amount, yes." Owen hummed in contemplation and turned back to his bike again. Claire scurried closer, her hand curling around his upper arm to bring his attention back to her. "What exactly do you do that makes you so sure of yourself out here?"

"I'm an animal behaviorist," he answered, finally standing. "Trained animals for the United States Navy."

"The Navy has animal behaviorists?" she asked, her eyes shifting up to adjust for the new height difference between them.

"Yeah," Owen said with a nod. Before she could say anything else, Claire's phone started ringing. "You're lucky," Owen said as she pulled it out of her pocket. "Usually not much reception out here."

"This matter is not settled," Claire said, pointing her finger at him as she headed back to her vehicle.

"I'm not moving, Claire!" he called as he sunk back down to his seat by his bike and she answered the call coming in to her phone.

"Fine, you know what? Get eaten by a dinosaur! See if I care," she called back in vexation. She pulled the phone up to her ear and said, "Hello…no, I…of course I didn't really mean that. What do you need?" Owen couldn't hold back the laughter that time, and she shot a death glare in his direction as she forcefully pulled open her driver's side door. "I'm on my way," she said.

* * *

Claire was working at her desk when her phone buzzed, and Zara's voice filled the room as she said through the intercom, "Claire…Mr. Grady has arrived."

"Thanks, Zara," Claire replied. "Send him in."

Owen entered her spacious office, ignoring the desk in front of him, his eyes instantly drawn to the full-length window to Claire's right. He let out a low whistle as he wandered over and took in the spectacular sight of the park.

"I thought the conference room had a nice view, but…you've got it beat," Owen said. "You ever just stand over here and have a _Lion King_ moment?"

"Excuse me?" Claire asked.

"Everything the light touches is your kingdom," he explained, looking back at her with a grin.

Claire scoffed quietly. That view took her breath away, too, but for different reasons. If she spent any time standing in his footsteps and looking down at the park, she saw only the responsibility – the thousands of people entrusting her with their safety…all the opportunities for everything to go wrong. It _scared_ her; it hadn't enchanted her for a long time. "Not for a while," she admitted.

He made his way over to one of the chairs opposite her desk and sat down. "So what can I do for you?" he asked.

She pulled a small pile of paper clipped sheets out of one of her desk drawers and dropped it on her desk in front of him. Claire put a pen on top of the document and said, "I need you to sign this."

Owen leaned forward to grab the pages. "What is this?" he asked.

"A waiver I had Legal draw up," Claire said in a decidedly no-nonsense tone. "That says if you're going to continue to choose to remain on a remote part of the island against professional advice, Jurassic World will not be held accountable should something happen to either your property or your person while you're out there."

"Are you for real?" Owen asked with a chuckle. Her gaze hardened and her head tilted slightly to the side, as if she was daring him to try her. "Okay," he said. He began thumbing through the pages of the unnecessarily long document. "Can I take this? So I can read it over," he asked.

"Of course," Claire agreed with a hopeful smile, pleased he was seemingly taking the document seriously.

"So what's a guy gotta do to get back on your good side?" he asked.

"Oh, you're not…" Claire sighed, sliding the drawer that had contained the document shut. "You're not on my bad side."

"Coulda fooled me," Owen said. "You're kind of damn sexy when you're mad, though."

"Wh – " Claire stuttered before she found herself at a loss of words. He grinned again; she was getting the impression that this man was beginning to get off on throwing _her_ off. She got her bearings and asserted, "Safety is really important to me, okay? And your home is…worrisome."

"You should come back sometime," Owen shrugged. "Might change your mind once you see the inside."

"I'm more than happy to come help you move," she shot back, the implication of his words not lost on her. His eyes widened slightly, and Claire felt a small sense of pride, having surprised him for once.

A gleam lingered in his eyes as he said, "So you're worried about me, huh?"

"No, that's not exactly what I…" Claire started. She stopped mid-sentence as she caught the _ridiculous_ grin he was still sending her way. "What?" Claire asked with a laugh.

"You're worried about me," he stated.

Claire laughed as if the very idea were preposterous, rolled her eyes, and folded her arms across her chest as she leant back into her desk chair. She looked at him again, their eyes remaining locked in a heated gaze that simmered somewhere between flirty and contentious.

Finally, Claire unfolded her arms and brought herself back to her desk. "That's all I had for you, so unless you have something else you'd like to discuss, you should probably be getting back to your…what is it you're working on right now?"

Owen snickered, and Claire's hopes deflated; she should've known it wouldn't be that easy.

* * *

Zara caught her as she returned to the corporate offices and held up the contract Claire had given Owen. Claire stopped in front of Zara's desk.

"He dropped this off while you were meeting with the triceratops trainers in the field this morning," Zara explained.

"Do you know what he does here?" Claire asked.

"Owen?" Zara asked. "He hasn't told you?"

Claire shook her head. "I assume it's something with the assets, but the system just says he's InGen's."

"If you don't know, then I definitely don't know," Zara pointed out.

"Thought you might've heard something," Claire said. She snatched the agreement from Zara's hands. "Did he sign it?"

"Mm-hmm," Zara hummed, lips pursed together as if she were suppressing a larger reaction.

Claire frowned a little at her assistant's response, the look on her face almost making it seem like she was up to something. She glanced at the document she'd hoped would intimidate Owen into the designated employee housing locations and sighed; he was so stubborn. "Thanks," Claire muttered to Zara before entering her own office.

Once inside, Claire placed the bag containing the morning's reports and paperwork onto the couch, abandoning her usual immediate unpacking in favor of looking over Owen's agreement. She sunk to the couch as she thumbed through the pages; it was signed, alright, but instead of removing the blank Jurassic World post-its she'd used to indicate each place that required an initial or signature, he'd left the post-its on the pages and filled in each one with slightly varied requests for a date, a request she expected would've been followed up in person, had she been around when he returned the form.

Claire took the agreement and returned to the doorway that separated her office from Zara's workstation. "You didn't look at this, did you?" Claire asked, holding the document up.

"Of course not," Zara lied, knowing that was the answer Claire wanted.

Claire decided to accept that answer, a silent agreement not to discuss it, and turned to go back into her office with a small nod. Zara turned back to her computer, too, catching another glance at Claire out of the corner of her eye.

"But if he…happened to ask you something, I think you should say yes," Zara said before she could completely go. Claire came back to the side of Zara's desk, the agreement dangling at her side as she glared at her. "I mean, my god, Claire, look at him," Zara finished. "Who cares what he does?"

Claire put on a bit of a show, shaking her head as she turned and headed back into her office, but as she swung the door shut behind her, she let a small smile tease the edges of her lips.

* * *

She spotted him across the Innovation Center on the afternoon of their date and tried keep her face neutral as he made his way over to her. Though it had taken a couple tries for him to convince her to say yes, she was excited by the prospect of turning their casual flirting into something more. Claire felt a little like she was nineteen and full of butterflies all over again, though she didn't want him – or anyone else, for that matter – to know that. When he reached her, he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her into his side. Her hand faltered for a moment before settling on his back between his shoulder blades.

"Just wanted to make sure you're still free tonight," he said in a low voice, his warm breath teasing her the curve of her ear.

"Of course; you're on my agenda," Claire said. She glanced down at the arm around her and let her eyes travel up, taking in their close position and their very public setting. "Not, um…not here," she muttered.

"Okay," Owen said. He loosened his grip right away, letting her step out of his embrace. "I'll see you tonight."

"Owen!" she called as he began to walk away from her. He turned back around at the sound of her voice. Claire sighed. "Will you _please_ just tell me what you do here?"

"I'm the lead trainer on the IBRIS Project," he said.

"And that's…?" Claire asked. Her face furrowed in confusion as she racked her brain for the familiar sounding name. Why was there a project on her island that she didn't automatically recognize?

"The velociraptors," he said with a grin and a wiggle of his eyebrows, and she hoped he didn't see her face go white.

 _Oh god_ , she thought. Of course. That's why she didn't know him in a professional context. That's how he'd been on her island for years without her ever knowing who he was. She should've figured it out sooner; there were so many dots. Why hadn't she been able to connect them before it got to this point? She shot him a smile she hoped he wouldn't realize was suddenly forced as he turned and headed away again.

She traveled back to her office as quickly as she could, high heels clicking against the linoleum floors, ignoring the ringing of her cell phone on her way there. Zara tried to catch her as she strode into her office, calling out her name.

"I need half an hour," Claire told her, stopping briefly at her assistant's desk. "No calls, no interruptions, thirty minutes. Can you make that happen?"

"Yeah, sure," Zara said. "Are you alright?"

"Fine. I'm…fine," Claire said with another false smile.

"Thirty minutes," Zara repeated.

She walked into her office, swinging the door shut behind her once again. She paused and took a deep breath before heading for the plush chair behind her desk. Claire swiveled it around to face the wall of the building instead of the glass walls of her office; nobody needed to catch a glimpse of their boss swiftly spiraling out of control.

The _one_ thing she didn't do. The _one_ thing on the island that Simon Masrani had always kept her away from. The _one_ thing she was always more than happy to avoid, despite her desire to call all the shots on the island.

They didn't have raptors in Jurassic World. The focus groups wanted them – they were the top-requested species, in fact, and had been since the park's inception – but people seemed to think their giant lizard-like appearance made them _funny_ instead of scary, and as long as they weren't going to be taken seriously, Claire wasn't going to advocate for their addition to the park. Simon and the board members that had been around eleven years ago agreed, and that had been enough to keep them away – for a while.

When they _finally_ decided it might be time to explore the idea, Simon declared it would be done as a training experiment. Training carnivores had always been in the long-term goals of the park, after all. If they wanted to re-introduce velociraptors and try again, they could train them, present them as a show. It'd be a perfect new attraction once they were ready…if they ever became ready.

Claire hadn't liked that idea, either, but even she had to admit it was nearly inevitable. Luckily for her, one look at her face during the meeting that introduced the IBRIS venture with InGen told Simon all he needed to know to make a decision about who on the island would be overseeing the project from an operations perspective. She had been one of the assistant managers then, and for the first time ever, she hadn't heard a word in the meeting between _velociraptors_ and Simon's firm instructions to her predecessor that he was to personally oversee the raptor project himself, and he was not to _ever_ outsource it to anyone else without checking with him first.

When she ascended to the top position a year later, Simon gave the raptor paddock and its corresponding project to one of the other junior executives that had wanted the senior manager role, packaged it as a consolation prize, something that made everyone happy at the time. Not everyone in Claire's professional orbit on the island knew the story anymore. It had been long enough that she got to keep that a secret from most of her staff, any record of the incident buried deep in the history of Jurassic World. She wanted to keep it that way.

Claire knew the raptors were there, of course, but she had managed to push them so far out of her mind that when the name of the project slipped from Owen's lips, nothing more than a vague sense of familiarity had come over her. She had never been out there herself. She didn't want to see them. A member of their species had changed her; sometimes she thought it wasn't for the better.

The raptor that was long gone from this Earth had stolen the girl who'd first stepped foot on Isla Nublar all those years ago and returned the woman who still walked around the island today, the one who made it her life's mission to do everything she could to make sure the tectonic shift she experienced in that cage never happened to anyone else. Coming face-to-face with another velociraptor, even after so many years, even through secure steel cages or industrial-strength glass walls, she feared that would shatter the persona she carried around the park – the confidence, the resolve, the _power_.

Despite what some people may think, there was still no icy core to her.

Claire sighed. She knew she was falling for Owen. She knew she had _fallen_ for him, at least on some level, more so than she had for anyone since…she still didn't really like to think about Justin. She still saw him too many places across the island, even if their time together was painfully short.

And now, if she continued down the road she'd started traveling with Owen, it would happen again. Maybe not in her arms this time, but he worked with the raptors. He _trained_ the raptors. _As if raptors could be trained_ , she thought. Claire knew all too well, more than anyone on Isla Nublar, that when it came to a dinosaur like the velociraptor, you were food first. It was only a matter of time before someone got hurt.

She bit her lip and picked up her phone, pressing the button on her speed dial that would call her sister. Despite the hour, Karen answered quickly, a wave of guilt washing over Claire as she realized her picture lighting up her sister's phone in the middle of the afternoon probably worried her.

" _Hello_ ," Karen answered, an almost questioning tone to her voice. Claire couldn't blame her for that skepticism; she knew it wasn't like her to call much _at all_ anymore, let alone during work hours.

"I think I did something stupid," Claire breathed.

Karen laughed to herself, grateful that the tone of Claire's voice was more self-inflicted torment versus something more serious. "What'd you do, Claire-Bear?"

"There's this guy…" Claire started.

"Ooh, it's _this_ kind of stupid," Karen gleefully interrupted. Back on Isla Nublar, Claire rolled her eyes. She knew she was taking a risk calling Karen - Karen, who started dating her husband before she could even legally drink, who always wanted Claire to be a little more _fun_ in this arena so she could live vicariously through her. Claire had little interest in such behavior. "Is he cute?" Karen asked.

"I…that's not… _yes_! He's…he's more than that," Claire stuttered, her voice still breathy as she tried to keep her volume down. She didn't want Zara or anyone else who might be mingling outside her office to hear _any_ of this. "He's just… _hot_."

Karen smiled, trying to keep her chuckling at a level too quiet for Claire to hear. "Sounds like a pretty good kind of stupid, Claire."

"Will you just shut up and let me talk for one minute?" Claire impatiently sighed.

"Yes, okay, I'm sorry," Karen said. "Tell me about the guy."

"We've been flirting for months," Claire admitted. Before Karen could say what Claire knew she would say in response to that, she corrected her statement. "He's been flirting, and I've been encouraging it. Anyway, I knew from the beginning that he worked on the island, but he would _not_ tell me what he does, beyond being a former animal behaviorist in the Navy…"

"Oh, a _Navy_ ma…" Karen started with excitement. Upon Claire's sigh, she stopped mid-sentence. "Shutting up," she promised.

"But he's not one of mine," Claire said. "He works for InGen."

"That's good, isn't it?" Karen asked. "That means you're allowed to date him?"

"Yes, but we finally made plans to do dinner tonight, and he just checked in with me to make sure we were still on, and I asked him to _please_ just tell me what he does," Claire explained, abruptly stopping there.

" _And_?" Karen asked. "Come on, Claire, how bad could it be?"

"He's the head trainer on InGen's Velociraptor project," Claire told her. Her voice sounded defeated, like she'd already lost a game she hadn't even started playing. She fell against the back of her chair, internally scolding herself for her own weakness.

"Oh _god_ ," Karen replied with a disbelieving laugh.

"What do I do?" Claire panicked. "The date is in five hours, and I _just_ told him I'm still free. How do I get out of this?"

" _What_? Claire!" Karen exclaimed. "You _don't_."

"I have to," Claire insisted.

"You _like_ him. Why would you cancel?" Karen asked.

"Did you not hear what I just said?" Claire huffed. " _Raptors_ , Karen." Her voice dropped to nearly nothing as she said, "I know how that ends."

"There's a big difference between a Navy specialist and a 20-year-old business major," Karen said delicately.

"Yeah, this one's cocky enough to think he can _train_ them," Claire replied.

"Sweetie…" Karen sighed. "Look, I know that changed you forever, and _of course_ it did; nobody could blame you for being apprehensive here, but how often do you like someone like this?"

"Oh, I don't…I… _never_ ," Claire admitted.

"Do you really want to throw that away because of how he makes his money?" Karen asked.

"But…" Claire protested. "I mean, _of all things_ …"

"Yeah, it's an unfortunate coincidence, but I think it's just that…an unfortunate coincidence."

"I don't…" Claire sighed. She trailed off, not actually knowing what she was trying to say.

"Look, I'm Team Claire, okay? So I'm on your side, always, but I also think you're _maybe_ a little more lonely than you let on sometimes, so I don't like the thought of you throwing away someone you like because of one horrible experience eleven years ago," Karen said.

"It was the worst night of my life, Karen," Claire said, her voice vulnerable.

"I know," Karen replied softly. "But go on the date. It's just one dinner. You don't have to think about that kind of _what if_ yet."

Claire sighed again. Her father's lines didn't work on her when he used them; Karen using them didn't feel much better. She knew a part of her still wanted to go, however, wanted to see what she and Owen could be. "Okay," Claire said, her voice still not yet back to its full strength. "I have to go."

"Wait!" Karen cried. "I actually wanted to talk to you about something, too."

"Okay, what?" Claire asked, hurriedly checking her watch. Her thirty minutes was dwindling far too quickly.

"It looks like the mediation's going to happen around Christmas, and that's going to be a lot of lawyers and a lot of meetings, and the boys will be home from school, and they still don't know yet, so I thought…maybe…they could come spend the week with you?" Karen asked.

"What?" Claire breathed. " _Here_?"

"Yeah," Karen said. "You haven't seen them in ages, and Gray's dying to go to the park, and they'll have a blast, and it'll be _fun_! And they deserve fun considering what Scott and I are going to hit them with when the holidays are over, and…"

Sensing Karen had a laundry list of reasons ready to talk Claire into seeing things her way, Claire interrupted and said, "Yeah, fine. Yes, that'll be fun. Yes."

"Are you capable of taking care of them for a week? Seriously?" Karen asked, as if the whole thing had been Claire's idea and not her own.

" _Yes_ , Karen, I am capable of keeping your kids alive, but right now, I have to go," Claire insisted.

"Call me tomorrow!" Karen requested before Claire hung up.

Claire twisted in her chair to place her phone on her desk and took a deep breath, trying to bury the anxiety in her stomach under the excitement she had felt before Owen had unwittingly dropped a bombshell on her. She swung her chair around and turned to her computer.

They were to meet at 7 in the lobby of the hotel that housed the suite she lived in. He'd offered to come to her office, but she had put a quick end to that line of thinking. Nobody needed to know about Claire Dearing dating an employee, even an employee that wasn't _hers_ , unless it went somewhere. Claire Dearing didn't date employees. A board member, once – that was pretty stupid, too. Guests, once or twice, when she was younger and short romances with boys she'd never see again seemed romantic. She stayed away from co-workers; she _never_ dated employees. Mostly, she just didn't date anyone at all.

Owen had told her he had a reservation at 7:30; that meant they were eating in the park, but a 120-mile ferry ride, one way, was a bit much for a first date, she knew, and he didn't know she could charter a helicopter at the snap of a finger when he made his plans. Something told her he wouldn't really be awestruck by that anyway. They would have to check-in for the reservation by 7:20. It would take that long to get there from the hotel. No time for any surprises there.

She opened the software program she and Zara used to craft her daily itineraries and started planning. Nobody knew what the island had to offer better than Claire did, and if they had a hard schedule to stick to, he wouldn't be able to get any ideas about taking her out to see the raptors after dinner. The look he gave her when he told her he was the lead trainer…she could read that look. Claire didn't know Owen Grady very well yet, but she knew enough to think it likely he would believe a visit to his raptors might impress her (and if she were being honest, in another time, _before_ , before Bright Minds, it _would_ _have_.) She needed to make sure that didn't happen – not yet, anyway.

Claire glanced down at the bottom right of her computer screen to check the time. Twelve minutes until her half-hour was over and she'd have to go back to work. She could work with that.

She could control this.

* * *

 _Thanks for reading! Any other fans of the book out there? I'd love to hear from you!_


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